


Matutine

by silveriris



Series: Arsonist's Lullabye [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveriris/pseuds/silveriris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calpernia, as he found out recently, is not a morning person. / drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matutine

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Dragon Age is not mine, although the writing certainly is.  
> A/N: even though I still have other things to edit, I wrote this silly drabble today. You may consider it a ‘missing scene’ from one of the previous fics, if you wish

_matutine_ – just before the dawn

* * *

 

His dreamless sleep ends as his whole body jolts, and Samson stares blankly at the space around him for a minute before he remembers where he is… and that he should _not_ be here.

It’s just before the dawn, meaning he must have slept for at least four hours straight which may be his new record. He is glad he's allowed at least these few hours, while some of the Red Templars can never find the silence sleep brings, forced to always listen to that unholy howling of the red in their bodies. He turns his head to the side and sees Calpernia sleeping quite peacefully, a striking contrast with the ferocious woman leading the Venatori.

He should not even be here; the problem is that Calpernia, as he found out recently, is not a morning person. And she’s certainly not kind to him, especially if she doesn’t get enough rest. She may never complain, but she’s only human and has to rest, besides mages are well aware what’s the price of their magic. She can summon flames with ease yet her powers are not endless, and everyone knows that an exhausted mage is an easy target.

She let him stay because… well, Blight take him if he knows why. It used to be easy, taking whatever she was generous enough to give, then leaving. Maybe he’s getting sentimental (even _more_ because he has always been a sentimental fool). He should get up and leave before Calpernia wakes up, yet he chooses to study her face instead, suddenly too fascinated to stop.

She’s curled into a ball, seems smaller than she really is, only partially covered by a blanket. Her lips are slightly opened, and since she let her braids loose in the evening, now her hair is a complete mess, resembling a golden cloud or a halo around her head. Not the prettiest sight but kind of... _adorable_ , and the very idea makes Samson feel somewhat disturbed since he has never thought he would use this word to describe a woman who can set people on fire with a nimble gesture of her hand.

He doesn’t really think as his fingers touch her skin, perhaps to check if she’s real, not a pigment of his imagination; she’s so warm even though the room is cold. Sometimes he wonders if it’s her fire magic that keeps her warm, just like all that lyrium in his bloodstream _helps_ him, supposedly.

All his thoughts vanish, however, as Calpernia's eyes snap open, and Samson wishes he was smarter and didn't do stupid things like this, at least once. He quickly withdraws  his hand but it's too late, she glares at him with pure unaltered _fury_ making him wonder if he has somehow awoken a dragon from the depths of the void.  

She whacks him with the back of her hand and groans, trying to push him away.

“N– nooo, don't touch me, you're boiling hot, stay away from meee!”

Part of him thinks it's funny, hearing her whine like this. There’s a striking difference between the calm, sleeping woman from just seconds ago, and the one he’s seeing now. Her half lidded eyes glare at him with sleepy annoyance, brows furrowed, lips twisted, and there's a red blush on her face, making all these freckles more visible. Not to mention that her hair is sticking out in every possible direction, giving her a look of an angry yet tired crazy lady who most likely lives in a small hut in the middle of a forest and considers collecting sticks one of her hobbies. She'll probably look like this if he sees her getting drunk one day (unlikely; although meeting a talking darkspawn used to be considered 'unlikely' yet here they are).

“Fasta vass, why are you still here?! _Get out_!” Calpernia tries to push him off the bed, only to achieve almost the opposite as she nearly falls off herself. She has _some_ strength in her arms, as she's quite skilled fighting with a staff, but her tiny fists can do exactly nothing to a person significantly more muscular and heavier than her. Samson briefly wonders if he could pick her up with one hand, and he’s almost sure he could.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says, knowing well he is soon going to regret his amused smile.

“You..!” She lets out a huff of irritation. “Get. OUT!”

When she starts mumbling something in Tevene (this language is still a mystery to him, though he can count to five, curse, and say, _Eggs today are better than chickens tomorrow_ , which probably has some profound meaning but it only makes him think of that place in Kirkwall that served good food), Samson considers this a sign that it's time to disappear from her sight before she remembers she’s able to cast spells that can do serious damage. With a heavy sigh, he gets up, leaving Calpernia alone so she can wrap herself in a cocoon of blankets.

Before leaving, Samson risks one more glance but seeing the way Calpernia glares at him he nearly cringes. He's certain that if looks could kill, he would be a pile of ashes. Not the first time he made her mad, and not the last, Samson is sure.

 

* * *

 

A/N2: _Ad praesens ova cras pullis_ –  the equivalent of _A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush_. But I'd like to point out that I'm not an expert when it comes to Latin, unfortunately.

Comments are, as always, much appreciated.


End file.
